


The view from up here

by alittlemayhem, niawho



Series: Mia 12 days of Kinkmas 2020 [9]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Oikawa Tooru, Choking, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, M/M, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Spit Kink, Top Iwaizumi Hajime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:42:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28538286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlemayhem/pseuds/alittlemayhem, https://archiveofourown.org/users/niawho/pseuds/niawho
Summary: Tooru is on his knees. Big, brown eyes stare back at him. Hajime reaches down and softly taps his chin. “Open,” he commands.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: Mia 12 days of Kinkmas 2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057058
Comments: 11
Kudos: 273





	The view from up here

**Author's Note:**

> Day 9 of #miakinkmas
> 
> Thank you so much to our beta [Tina](https://twitter.com/sunny_seize?s=20)!

Reporters shout, lining the stands, cheers erupting in multiple different languages, and the adrenaline rushing through the air can only slightly describe how he feels in this moment. A sensation of immense pride builds in his chest as he takes a step out of the corridor. 

"Come here often?" A warm hand wraps around Hajime's eyes. He can recognize that voice anywhere. 

"Tooru- It’s the fucking Olympics."

"Awww, Iwa-chan, I missed you! Did you miss me?"

Iwaizumi huffs, rolling his eyes; although, Oikawa can’t see him. "We talk every day, and this stunt is getting old."

"What stunt?” Oikawa’s hand runs down Iwaizumi's chest lightly, brushing past his waistband.

Iwaizumi swats his hand away before it can get too far. “Please, Oikawa.  _ Behave _ .” He hisses and starts for his side of the court before Oikawa can even respond. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


*ding* 

Hajime groans. He can only guess that it’s Matsu or Maki texting him, to rub in their loss to Tooru. Begrudgingly, he pulls out his phone and notices a photo message from the man himself. Rolling his eyes, thinking he's probably gloating, Hajime opens the message. 

A body flashes on his screen, and he slams his phone into his locker. 

_ Holy shit _ . 

He stuffs his phone into his pocket and beelines it to the nearest stall. 

Opening the picture again, he sees it is a mirror selfie of Tooru with nothing on except an Argentinian flag wrapped around his shoulders. The caption reading: 

"Hope this makes you feel better, Iwa-chan~"

He is in the neighboring locker room,  _ with his teammates _ , for fuck’s sake.

_ How did he even take this _ ? Hajime swallows. That is it for him. 

The last straw and string of his dignity have snapped. He quickly types a reply and tries to force down his arousal. It's going to be a long night for him. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


His team and a few stragglers make their way out to drink tonight. There are no hard feelings, and they even come across their opponent halfway through the night. 

Glancing around the unfamiliar bar, he’s looking for a friendly face. Namely, one twisted in a handsome, but gloating and selfish, grin paired with an even more annoying voice. 

Surveying the crowd, he hones in on him. Just as he expected, he’s leaning against the bar. Drink in one hand, and the other… the other wrapped around another guy's forearm. 

Well, fuck.  _ Did he get the wrong impression from that photo? _

He watches them silently as his group takes a seat and orders their third round of the night. Tooru’s hand travels up the side of this stranger’s arm and grips his biceps. His laugh is infectious as the other bar-goers peek over in interest. 

Tooru always knew how to draw a crowd. Hajime must be glaring because he is suddenly snapped out of it when a tablemate slams down a pint of beer in front of him.

Hajime chases down the jealousy with the sweet taste of beer and returns back to his conversation. The sting is bearable when it is paired with the cold caress of alcohol. The whole pint is gone in seconds and one more follows soon after. He’ll chuck it up to the loss.

Not ten minutes later, his vision is interrupted by fluffy hair and a shitty grin.

“Iwa-chan!” 

“What, Tooru?”

“I didn’t know you all would come for drinks tonight! I would’ve saved you a spot.” He pouts.

_ Cute. _

Ignoring his feint, Hajime diverts his attention to his beer. His 8th one of the night, actually. Wait, was it? He can’t remember.

Tooru squeezes into the booth, practically fusing with Hajime’s thighs. Thank god he had those beers; the red on his face would betray him so fast. 

Quickly arranging himself, he moves to shove Tooru off of him. This is deterred by the hand gripping his thigh. Swinging his head to his left, his face is a small breadth away from Tooru’s.

In a hushed voice, Hajime hisses. “Tooru, what the fuck?”

“What? Iwa-chan, I’ve been waiting all night.” Oikawa cries out, leaning into his neck; he takes in a deep breath. 

They are still in the middle of a bar, sitting with his team on top of that. 

“Not here, not now. If you behave yourself like a good boy, I’ll fuck you until your eyes go white tonight.” Iwaizumi growls, the breath of his words burning the tip of Tooru’s ear.

His face goes blank. Hajime can almost hear the cogs turning in his head; the steam wafting from his ears. He quickly pats him on the thighs, prompting him to hop off.

A small groan leaves the man on his lap. He shimmies off and plops down beside him. Hajime could almost smack him, Tooru’s shit-eating grin stretches across his face. 

* * *

The night is humid. Hot. Sticky. The two of them find themselves in an alley, wedged between recycling and god-knows-what. Hands are exploring the divots on each other’s bodies as their mouths exchange breaths. A breathy giggle interrupts their flow. 

“Iwa- are we doing this here…?”

“Ugh- shut up, Tooru- I know.”

Grabbing his hand, he leads them out of the alley and into the night. Brisk steps past the merry crowds bring them closer to the hotel. The Olympic Village is bursting with a light atmosphere. Turning the corner, they practically sprint toward his lodging for the night.

“ _ Is that Iwaizumi-san over there? Why is he walking so fast? Should we go tell him goodnight?” _

“ _ Are ya crazy? Yeah, that’s him, but he’s with Oikawa-san. I wouldn’t bother him!” _

Tooru chuckled at the chatter that was now receding into the sounds of the night.

Tile meets the soles of their shoes as they make their way to the elevators. One horny ride to the 14th floor later - and a slurred “sorry” to the poor grandma they scared - they find themselves swiping a key card to a luxurious suite, outfitted with an en-suite kitchen and a balcony with a view that could kill. 

Hajime was lucky he had scored this specific room, perks of being a trainer for the national team.

Tooru immediately runs out to the railing, releasing a guttural yell. 

“Always wanted a fancy room to do that with.”

Hajime saunters up behind him, wrapping his arms around Tooru’s waist as he laps at the athlete’s neck. His low voice almost a growl.

“Yeah? Well, I hope you have more in you because I want you to yell my name for the whole fucking city to hear. Right now.”

Tooru whines as Hajime’s grip tightens and their lips meet. 

* * *

Tooru is on his knees. Big, brown eyes stare back at him. Hajime reaches down and softly taps his chin. “ _ Open _ ,” he commands.

Obediently, Tooru does, parting his lips. Hajime spits into his mouth and chases it with his cock. His head follows the line of spit, dragging it down. 

Tooru’s eyes stay put on him as Hajime teasingly circles the tip of his cock around his pretty lips, enjoying the way he seems so eager to just take him in. Hajime sets the tip on Tooru’s open mouth, not fully going in. But then, he moans. His pleading eyes blinking at Hajime, and he absolutely loses it. 

Hajime tightly grips Tooru’s hair and slams his cock into the sweet, warm embrace. Sobs and moans erupt from the man beneath him as his hips jut for attention. He raises a knee to level his foot with Tooru’s abandoned shaft. Applying generous pressure, he grinds his heel to Tooru’s tip, spreading his excitement with the ball of his foot. 

“ _ You fucking slut. _ ”

A guttural moan tears from Tooru’s chest. His tears racing to his chin.

“You had everyone’s attention at the bar, Mr. Gold Medal. Yeah?” Iwaizumi teases. “How does it feel now? Hm, Tooru? Oh, wait- your mouths full- can’t hear you.”

His arm muscles flex as he pulls Tooru in closer, his cock sinking further down his throat. A muffled groan vibrates around him and returns the sound. The seams of his lips prick with a tint of blood as he struggles to intake the girth.

Feeling the edge, he fists his other hand into Tooru’s hair, pulling him off of his length. His mouth is ajar, and spit is dribbling to the floor. His eyes are glazed, and his cocky attitude is nowhere to be seen. 

“You’re not done yet, huh? Take care of these before I get back.” He snaps, tugging at Tooru’s clothes before he steps back into the room for lube and condoms.

When he returns, Tooru is leaning against the glass and metal railing, looking down at the streets. He slithers his hands down his exposed back and pushes him further over the railing.

Popping the cap off and depositing a glob of lube onto his finger, he massages it until it is warm to touch. Sliding his fingers in between Tooru’s cheeks, he nibbles at the nape of his neck. Prodding at his entrance, he growls next to his ear.

“Stop biting your lip. Open your eyes. You wanted to be fucked, right, Tooru? Let them all see it.”

Pushing one finger forward, he’s surprised at how little resistance was given. A small moan leaves the man who’s halfway hanging off of the railing. Taking it as a sign to continue, he pushes a second finger in, his knuckles grazing the rim.

“Fuck, Tooru, such a nympho. You’re practically ready.”

“Ahh- I was on a high after- ahh- the win- Fuck- Hajime, please.”

“What? I’m giving it to you right now.”

Scissoring his fingers, he presses on Tooru’s prostate. Pushing down on his back to further press Tooru’s stomach into the railing, Hajime swirls his fingers. Tooru’s slick walls loosen to the feeling. 

“Fuck- please- M’good. Hurry- I need it- ahh.”

“I don’t want to hear anything else coming out of your mouth except my name and moans. You hear me, Tooru?” Hajime breathes out.

Rolling a condom over his hard cock, Hajime readies himself in between Tooru’s spread legs. Squeezing the lube over his length, then in between Tooru’s cheeks, he generously prepares him. Rubbing his tip up and down Tooru’s entrance, catching the edge of his muscle ever so slightly. Tooru whines in retort.

“Hajime- ahh. Please- I- AHH!”

Hajime slams his cock into him. His full length stretching Tooru’s hole. An obscenely feral moan, wretches itself from inside of Tooru’s chest. He careens over the edge of the balcony railing as Hajime drags his cock in and out of him. A hard smack on the ass bobs his cock against the glass. Moaning at the cool friction, Tooru doesn’t think he can last much longer. 

“Fuck- Hajime, ahh, there. Yes!”

“Yeah? Who’s fucking you so good right now, Tooru? Tell everyone down there.”

“Ahh- you- Hajime- You are!”

The rumble of traffic beneath him drowns out the cries from above. Knowing this, Hajime presses on. Hooking his thumb into where his cock is pressing into Tooru, he presses against Tooru’s skin.

“I can’t hear you, Tooru- Whose hole is this? Who do you belong to?”

“Ahh- Hajime’s- yours ple-Ahhh”

Avoiding pushing him over the edge, Hajime drags his cock almost fully out of Tooru, giving him some time to breathe. Sparing no time, Tooru thrusts his own hips down onto Hajime’s cock. Their moans echo in between the buildings.

“Fuck, Tooru, you’re such a cockslut. Could be anyone filling you, huh?”

“Ahh- no, Hajime, only you. Only yours, please.”

His voice is hoarse and scratchy; Hajime knows they both won’t last much longer. 

“ _ Fucking slut. _ ”

Looking down at the muscle encasing his length, he spits on his cock. Dragging his thumb up his length, he hooks it around Tooru’s rim, stretching him even more. The sounds he’s making send shivers down Hajime’s spine. 

Slamming his cock into him, he sandwiches him against the glass. Sliding in and out, his knuckles grazing his own erection, he can feel the build. Pulling Tooru closer to his chest, he sinks his teeth into his shoulder. His vision goes white.

His muffled groan is drowned out by the sound of Tooru’s climax. Thrusting into him lazily, he milks his own orgasm.

They collapse back onto the patio furniture near them. Cold cotton stings his thighs, and he pulls himself out of Tooru. Wincing at the loss, Tooru whines at the cold rushing into his consciousness. 

“Yeah, yeah. I know. C’mon, I already ran the bath.” 

“Iwa-chan, you always know what I want, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Picking the grown man up, he carries him bridal style back into the room. Closing the glass sliding doors with the heel of his foot, he pads across the carpeted flooring into the warm embrace of the spacious bathroom. Testing the water on his toe, he hums at the perfect temperature. Stepping in, he lowers himself with Tooru in his lap into the milky water. Tooru’s back adheres to his chest, and their legs tangle to the end of the tub. Soft, wet kisses marry his delicate touches as they enjoy this moment together. 

“You spent all day ignoring me. Are you trying to make up for it now?”

“Shut up, Tooru.” 

His chest vibrates with his chuckles. The water splashes over the edge of the tub. Cupping his face, Hajime meets his lips. 

“Welcome home.”

“I’m home.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! As always, kudos and comments are super encouraging and welcome!
> 
> Keep your eyes open for the next one! Sakuatsu with -Knife Play- coming to you tomorrow!
> 
> Find us on Twitter!  
> [Nia](https://twitter.com/bokutosayswhaat)!
> 
> [May](https://twitter.com/sakusasmask504)!


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